Request Fill 19: Crash, in TBoPE series
by Caera1996
Summary: NOW COMPLETE - This is a Request Fill for McRaider in TBoPE/LAWG 'verse. Jim is in a car accident on his way to work. He's seriously injured but still for the most part coherent, and panicked. Please see inside for a more complete summary.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Request Fill 19: Crash, in TBoPE 'verse  
**Author:** Caera1996  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**Rating:** G  
**Summary/Notes:** This is a Request Fill for McRaider in TBoPE/LAWG 'verse. It can be read as a standalone, however. The request was: Jim is in a car accident on his way to work. He's seriously injured but still for the most part coherent, but whatever his injuries are they need to be addressed quickly and because of this Jim is forced into an almost identical situation as the one from when he was a child. He keeps calling for Bones in fear.

* * *

_Don't follow so close, Jim._

How many times had Bones said that to him? And it was weird, how those words had time to repeat themselves in his brain – in Bones' voice, nonetheless – as he watched it happen in front of him…watched it, and knew he was powerless to do anything to stop himself from becoming part of it.

He watched as the silver sedan ahead of him on the left veered off the road, towards the guardrail. The driver overcompensated, yanking the wheel to the right, causing his car to lurch to the side, and hit the red car in the middle lane. That car hit its brakes, swerved to the left…directly in Jim's path.

And there was nothing he could do. He slammed on his brakes, but there wasn't enough time to stop.

_Don't follow so close, Jim._

The collision was shocking in its violence. Metal screamed as wheels and brakes screeched, working against forward momentum. The incredible force of inertia threw bodies forward into steering columns and dashboards and, for the extremely imprudent, windshields. Seatbelts compressed soft tissue and soft organs, rupturing capillaries, cutting into skin. Airbags deployed, cushioning the impact slightly, for those lucky enough to have them.

Jim braced himself, gripped the wheel, squeezed his eyes closed, and didn't register any of that.

* * *

"Sir! Sir, can you hear me?"

"We're gonna get you out, Sir. Can you tell me your name?"

_Jim…it's Jim. I need Bones…hurts…I can't breathe…_

He couldn't see…couldn't take a deep breath…wasn't sure if he anyone heard him…if he even said anything out loud. And then there was nothing, just darkness…and darkness was good, cause there wasn't any pain.

And then there was motion, and incredibly loud noise he tried to flinch away from…and he surfaced more this time…like looking up through a murky pond at diffused light. And he hurt…through his whole body he hurt…but he held on this time, forcing himself up and into the noisy, bright, confusing, waking world.

"Sir…can you hear me?"

Jim squinted, the person hovering above him finally coming into focus. He blinked, and everything slowly came into focus.

"Yes," Jim whispered. He tried to take a deep breath, and couldn't. "Can't breathe…what…" He tried to raise his head, and a gentle hand on his forehead held him down.

"Sir, you were in a car accident. You have some injuries, but you're going to be okay. I'm Phil, and this is Casey. We're getting ready to get you to the hospital, and you're gonna be fine. I just need you to be still."

Jim swallowed hard, tried again to sit up, and was again pressed down. Phil left his hand there, stopping him from raising his head.

"Sir…you need to be still."

"No…no…let me up. Stop…where's Bones? Bones…please…"

"Bones?" Casey repeated, looking at her partner as she took the patient's blood pressure.

"He's altered. Let the hospital know he may have a closed head injury," Phil said quietly.

"Heart rate and bp are rising."

"Ok, let's pack him and transport."

"No!" Jim said again, as forcefully as he could. An oxygen mask was placed over his face, and he immediately moved to take it off. "Please…I – I can't."

"Sir…you need to stay calm. We're going to put this collar on you, to protect your spine…."

"No!" Jim gasped out, his chest heaving for air as he raised his arms to deflect the collar.

"Sir…you need to stay still…"

"Stop, please, stop…let go…let go of me!"

Concerned about what he could hear in the patient's chest, and seeing that he was panicking, Phil made a quick decision.

"Restraints," he said quietly.

Weakened as he was, it took almost no time to secure Jim's arms and legs, and then secure the c-spine collar as well, despite the patient's protests. He replaced the oxygen mask as well, and finally, they were ready to go.

Panic tore through Jim, flooding his system with adrenaline and his heart thudded painfully in his chest. His lungs screamed for more oxygen than he was getting, and he tried to arch, gasping at a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest, as he pulled against his arms and legs against the restraints…tried to scream but couldn't get any sound out…tried to plead again for Bones…_I need Bones! I need Bones, please!_

The EMTs quickly loaded the patient into the ambulance, trying to reassure him the whole time. But he was inconsolable, and obviously in the grip of a panic attack. They were helpless to do anything, but provide all the supportive care they could until they could get him to the hospital.

* * *

"Not-altered," Jim pressed out, a gasping breath between each word as he desperately tried to communicate with the e.r. doctor. "James-Kirk. Wednesday - morning -April -third."

"Sir – Jim…you're going to be okay, but one of your ribs has punctured your lung…we need to…"

"No! Withhold - consent. -No -consent…no…"

Dr. Tavarkian watched the monitors, while listening to Jim's chest. His heart rate was through the roof, he was shaking, tear tracks were evident on his face. The man was completely panicked, and injured, and withholding consent. So he did the only thing he could do.

"Hands off," he ordered. "Everyone! Hands off, now. Smith and Petit, you two stay. Everyone else…out. Let's give Jim some room."

Jim watched with wide eyes as everyone who'd been surrounding him, hands all over him, cutting his clothes, readying procedures…as he struggled to communicate through the pain and fear and breathlessness that made him feel like he was dying and drowning and sending him into a claustrophobic tailspin of panic exacerbated by the collar and the mask and the restraints…until he thought his heart was going to explode and he was going to die. Right then. Without ever seeing Bones or hearing his voice again.

_And where is he? Bones, please, Bones…_

He pulled against the restraints on his wrists and tried to turn his head, desperately wanting the collar and mask OFF. His breath whooshed in and out so loud in his ears, he could hardly hear anything else. The pain in his chest was getting worse, and every movement felt like a knife in his side.

Dr. Tavarkian had Smith and Petit carefully monitoring the patient's vitals. This was an emergency situation that could get a lot worse very, very quickly. He had to get him to calm down enough to give them permission to continue. He rolled a stool to the bedside, sitting down and trying to make eye contact with him.

"Jim…tell me what I can do to make you feel better. You're hurt. We want to help you…but we need you to let us."

With everyone gone, and everything they were doing stopped, Jim felt less frantic. It still hurt to breathe, and he still felt like he wasn't pulling full breaths, but he was able to breathe better, and he didn't feel like he was dying anymore.

Focusing for the first time on the face of the doctor, Jim felt tears he couldn't control slip down the side of his face.

"Take the collar off. _Please_. I can't stand it…I c-can't…"

Pressing his lips together, Tavarkian weighed the risks of that.

"I have to do a quick exam first…to make sure you're ok…and then we'll have to send you for x-rays. Can you agree to that?"

"Yes…yes…just…take it off."

Tavarkian spent a few minutes testing Jim's reflexes and strength, asking him to squeeze his fingers, push with his feet against his hands, and a couple of other checks as well, all of which indicated the collar could be removed. So, making the final decision for the good of the patient, Tavarkian did.

And immediately, Jim breathed easier.

The pain was still there, in his chest, to be sure…but having that collar off of him made such a huge difference to him.

"Okay, Jim…can we continue with treating your injuries now?"

"No…no consent for treatment," Jim said immediately, his voice shaking. "I need to talk to Bones. To…to Leonard McCoy. Can you call him?"

"Yeah we can do that…" he raised his hand, keeping his eyes on Jim, and his voice gentle, and Petit put a cellphone in his hand. "Who is Leonard McCoy?"

"My husband…amazing doctor…neurologist. Please…I need him here. I can't do this…I need him. Please…"

"Okay, Jim…can you tell me what's wrong?"

"No…please just…" he stopped and his lower lip trembled as his tried to keep himself under control.

"Okay...just try to stay calm. What's his number?"

Jim recited Bones' cell number, hoping against hope he'd answer. He was teaching today…

_Please, Bones…please answer._


	2. Chapter 2

Leonard's eyes left the projection for a moment, flicking from the diagram he was currently describing to his cellphone on the table to the side. The screen lit up as it vibrated, indicating an incoming call. Without missing a beat, Leonard took a couple steps to the side to see the number…and it wasn't one he recognized. Deciding to let it go to voicemail, he continued with the class and a few minutes later the phone's screen lit up again, indicating someone left a message.

Finishing his description, he brought the lights up and got to work discussing with the students everything they'd just covered, the phone call forgotten.

He didn't realize that there was another call, and then a third...and then finally a text message.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Jim…he's not answering."

"Noo," Jim moaned plaintively. He squeezed his eyes closed and turned his head away, swallowing hard around the ache in his throat. He'd been so desperately hopeful that he could talk to Bones, and tell him to come and then have him here. He _needed_ him here, now.

"Jim…Jim I need you to say calm," Tavarkian said, eyes on the monitor as he listened to Jim's labored breathing as he shook in pain and fear. Shock was a constant worry. Damage to his lung was a constant worry. Any other soft tissue damage – including possible internal bleeding that they couldn't rule out because Jim wouldn't _let_– them was a constant worry _Fuck – I need to do_ something _for him!_ the doctor thought. But his hands were tied. Jim wasn't allowing it. Reaching the end of his rope, he stood, handing the cellphone to Petit.

"Smith, you're with me. Petit, try calling again in a couple of minutes." Lowering his voice, he said to her, "Call me _immediately_ if anything changes."

Petit nodded. "Okay."

Tavarkian and Smith left the room, and Petit focused her attention on the patient. He was still restrained, unable to convince Tavarkian that he wouldn't fight. Petit wasn't sure how she felt about that. The poor man was frightened…phobic, she was willing to guess…and being held in place probably wasn't helping. On the other hand, there was no guarantee that the very few things they had in place to monitor and provide supportive care – leads on his chest, bp cuff, pulse ox, and IV – would stay in place if they did release him.

"Jim," Petit said. "My name is Nadjia. I am sure your husband will get our messages and call back soon."

Jim panted, grimacing as he tried to shift his position slightly. "Oh, god…he has to. He has to…please try to call him again. Please…"

"Okay…I'll call again right now." She noticed that Jim had gathered some of the fabric from the paper blanket covering him in his left hand, gripping it in a white-knuckled fist. Petit stripped off her gloves, then hit redial. Bringing the phone to her ear, she used her other hand to gently urge him to loosen his grip on the blanket and hold on to her instead. He resisted at first, but the gesture was such a simple offer of comfort, and he was so in need of comfort, he responded and she gave his sweaty hand a squeeze as she listened to Leonard McCoy's voicemail message again.

"I'm sorry Jim…he's not answering. Is there someone else we can call? Or…do you know of another way to reach him?"

"No…no…I'd need my cellphone. Where's my cellphone?"

"It's not here, Jim. Is— "

"It's Wednesday…he's teaching…I don't know…"

Wanting to help the poor man, Petit wracked her brains for a way to reach him.

"You said he's a neurologist?"

"Yeah," Jim nodded slightly, really focusing on the nurse for the first time.

"Does he still practice?"

"Yes…yes…San Francisco General…I didn't think of it," Jim said, feeling new hope in him. Why hadn't he thought of that before? And then he realized that he hadn't been thinking clearly at all, and that scared him.

"It's okay," Nadjia said. "A lot has been going on, and you're in a little bit of shock."

"Shock?" he repeated, his voice a little hoarse.

Nadjia paused what she was doing to peer at Jim, and then study his vitals. "Yes…you're injured, but we can't be sure what's wrong until we can examine you. Can we do that now?"

"Not..not until…I have Bones."

Nadjia pressed her lips together and quickly called the main number of San Fran Gen, and asked to speak with whoever was Leonard McCoy's admin. To her relief, she was put through to a woman named Jennifer who worked within the Neurology Department. She put Nadjia on hold while she called Leonard's cellphone.

In that classroom at the University, Leonard saw that number, recognized it…and then realized he'd missed several calls from that number he didn't recognize. His heart in his throat, he excused himself, had the T.A. take over, and answered the call. Jennifer quickly connected him to Nadjia.

"Dr. McCoy, this is Nadjia Petit at Saint Francis. Jim Kirk was in a car accident and was brought in to us…but we haven't been able to treat him…"

"Oh my god, is he okay?" Leonard asked. He was already running through the hallways.

"He's sustained some injuries," she said, not wanting to give too much information over the phone. "…but we're not sure the extent. He's awake and alert,"

"But he won't let you do anything," Leonard finished, panting as he wrenched open the door and ran through the courtyard, garnering dirty looks from people he brushed past. "He's phobic…oh, god he must be panicking. Is he okay to wait? Is he in danger?"

"We're watching him carefully, but he has expressly withheld consent," she said. "He keeps asking for you. It…would be good if you could come right away."

"I'm coming. I'm coming right now. Tell him I'm coming. Can he talk? Can I talk to him?"

Leonard threw his briefcase into the car, slid into the driver's seat, and slammed the door closed. He fumbled the keys, trying to jam it into the ignition, hold on to the phone, and buckle himself in. When Nadjia hesitated, he paused what he was doing.

"Can he talk?" Leonard asked again.

"Dr. McCoy," Nadjia said, lowering her voice slightly. "The EMTs who brought him in had to restrain him, and the doctor here didn't feel it was prudent to release those restraints. Jim hasn't been…the most cooperative."

Forcing himself to calm down, Leonard managed to get himself buckled in and get the car started. But now, hearing that, he felt a rush of anger.

"Of course he's not being cooperative! Would you be cooperative if you were tied down?" he yelled.

"Doctor, he was fighting everyone and withholding consent," Nadjia said. "And no one wanted to risk additional injury. It wouldn't have been done if it wasn't necessary. But…hold on a moment."

Leonard pulled to a stop sign and closed his eyes, swallowing. This was bad. This was so bad. If anything happened to Jim because he didn't answer his damned phone…if he didn't let the doctors take care of him and he got worse…

"Bones?" Jim said shakily. "Bones, I was in a car accident."

"Oh, Darlin'," Leonard said. "I know you were. Are you okay?"

Jim squeezed his eyes closed, so relieved to be talking to Bones he teared up. "No…my chest hurts and it's hard to breathe, and I need you here. Please Bones. I'm s-scared and I c-can't…"

Leonard's heart broke to hear him sound so vulnerable. "Darlin' I'm on my way. I'm coming right now. But you have to let the doctors help you if you're hurt."

"No, no…Bones please…I need you here…please…"

"I'm coming, Jim. I'm driving to you right now."

Jim took a couple of quick breaths, trying to keep himself under control, but Leonard could hear his stress and his fear, and he felt it too. "Don't hang up, Bones."

"I won't Darlin'. We'll talk until I get there. Just a little while, Jim. Hold on."

* * *

Nadjia stepped out of the room, leaving Jim with one hand unsecured so he could hold the phone and talk to his husband. He'd promised that he wouldn't remove or change anything, and Nadjia, wanting to establish that trust, decided to believe him.

Tavarkian and Smith were talking to another doctor, a consult from psych whose name she didn't remember.

"…declare him without capacity."

The psych consult shook his head. "I'll talk to him, but you said he was completely lucid."

"But wouldn't a phobic response indicate-" Smith started to ask.

"Gerald," Nadjia said, getting Tavarkian's attention. "He's talking to Leonard McCoy now, and he's on his way here right now. I think we should just wait."


	3. Chapter 3

Tavarkian and Smith rejoined Nadjia and Jim in the treatment bay. Jim's eyes tracked them warily as they came into the room, and he shifted slightly, wincing. Seeing that Jim was holding the phone on his own, Tavarkian glanced at Petit. She simply shrugged. Jim had kept his end of the bargain and hadn't done anything to disrupt any of the equipment he was hooked up to, so she didn't spare a thought at disobeying the doctor. So far, so good.

Tavarkian glanced at the screen displaying Jim's vitals, and very little had changed. His heart rate was still too high, and his breathing was more like panting. The shortness of breath was particularly concerning. From what he'd been able to hear in the chest before Jim had managed to put a stop to everything, he was 99.9% certain he had a pneumothorax – a collapsed lung. The question was, how bad was the damage to the lung? How much pressure was building around the lung, compressing it, and causing that shortness of breath? They needed a blood draw, chest x-ray, the patient needed a chest tube, and a decision needed to be made about whether this was surgical. Soon.

But he'd already made up his mind about one thing. He wasn't going to just stand there and watch if his patient's symptoms got any worse.

The three of them listened to Jim quietly talk to the person he'd been asking for, describing what had happened…losing consciousness only to wake up just in time to find himself strapped down, confused and in pain, and too disoriented to make himself understood.

"It was s-so awful. I thought I was going to die, Bones. I couldn't breathe…"

Bones' had the phone pressed so hard to his ear, it actually hurt. His heart clenched as he listened to Jim, his voice weak and shaky.

"How're you breathing now, Jim?"

"Better before…not so good now. Are you here yet, Bones? I…"

Alarmed at how faint his voice had gotten, Leonard nearly scraped his bumper along another car as he parked, manipulating the steering wheel with one hand, still holding the cell with the other. His mind raced through all of the things that could cause that. None of them good. Some of them life-threatening. Forcing down his own panic, he stayed focused, and kept his voice calm. He didn't want to freak Jim out even more than he already was.

"I'm here, Jim…I'm here," Leonard said into the cellphone. He exited the car and hurried through the parking lot to the entrance to the Emergency Room. "You still with me, Darlin'?"

"Yeah," Jim answered. He sounded exhausted…and no wonder. Without any help, without being able to communicate to the EMTs initially, his response to everything that he'd been through had spiraled out of control, and sustaining that level of terror for so long took a lot out of a body. And with him injured and in pain…all of it had just been so much. Too damn much.

"I'm here to see Jim Kirk. Dr. Tavarkian is waiting for me," Leonard said to the woman at the registration desk.

"Your name?"

"Leonard McCoy."

"I.D.?"

"Oh for…" Grumbling, but not wanting to do anything to hold up getting to Jim, he pulled out his wallet and showed her his license, and then – for good measure – clipped his SF Gen name badge to his shirt. Absolutely unimpressed, the receptionist printed out a stick-on name badge and instructed Leonard to put it on.

"He's in Bay 8. Come around the side, and I'll buzz you in."

"Bones?" Jim said into the phone. He looked over at Nadjia when she quietly announced that his oxygen saturation rate was down to 89. Tavarkian nodded tightly.

"I'm literally right around the corner Jim."

Jim focused on breathing, and in the next second, he heard hurried footsteps. Jim's eyes filled with relieved tears, and he dropped the phone on to the bed to reach for Bones. Without sparing a glance at anyone else in the room, he rushed to Jim's side, taking his outstretched hand and holding him tightly. Jim clutched him, pulling fruitlessly on his other arm, still secured down. Leonard kissed him gently, wiped tears off his cheeks, then took a second to undo the strap as he shot a murderous glance at the three people in the room who'd kept him like that.

Released, Jim cried out in pain as he reached both arms up to hold on to him, and he pressed his face to Bones' shoulder when he leaned down to reach him. Jim shook with emotion he didn't really have enough breath to express, and Leonard had to swallow hard around the lump in his throat as his eyes watered.

"Jim…oh, Darlin'…it's okay…shh. I know it's been so hard, but please, Darlin', please try to calm down."

Listening to Jim's pained wheezing, Tavarkian had enough. Stepping forward, he issued orders to Smith and Petit for a blood draw, for sedation, and for a chest tube tray.

Hearing all of that, Jim tensed in Leonard's arms.

"Bones, no…what's happening?"

"Mr. McCoy?" Tavarkian said, needing Jim to allow them to work…and ready to have him declared diminished capacity if he wouldn't.

"Doctor," Leonard answered, looking up at him. "What do you think?"

"Pneumothorax from a broken rib. We need to assess it, and his sats are getting much too low for comfort. But we haven't been able to _do_ anything."

Leonard nodded. "Give us a few minutes. Please."

Tavarkian stiffened. "Doctor-"

"Jim," Leonard said, cutting Tavarkian off as he looked down at him…tension visible in his face despite his closed eyes. "I need to talk to the doctor for just a second, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

Reluctantly, Jim released his hold on Leonard, and he moved to the foot of the table, holding Jim's foot gently to help keep him calm.

He spoke quietly. "Dr. Tavarkian, Jim has a debilitating medical phobia that stems from a traumatic experience when he was a child. He's gotten therapy for it, but this…something like this…it was so close to what happened when he was a kid, and for it to happen the way it did…with him unconscious at first…he just wasn't able to control any of what he was feeling. The last time he was in the hospital for an injury, he panicked at the thought of me not being there even for a minute.

"I know that he needs treatment, immediately, but you need to give us just a little time. Also, he has a lot of allergies and sensitivities to sedatives. I'm sure you plan on getting a CT." He paused and Tavarkian nodded. "Jim's highly allergic to contrast…he went into anaphylactic shock and had to be intubated the first time that was done."

Tavarkian blew out a breath, frustrated with the situation. "Great, so we have a patient with a severe phobia, medical allergies, and a pneumothorax. So what do you suggest, Doctor?"

Leonard relaxed slightly, grateful that he seemed willing to work with them. "I'm listed as Jim's primary physician, and I had my admin send a copy of his records to Admitting. Give me just a few minutes with him while you review his information. And, I know I don't have privileges here, but it'd be better for him if you allowed me to stay with him as much as possible."

"Okay," Tavarkian said after a moment. "We'll keep you with him as much as possible, but if that sat level drops below 85, we're gonna have to move. You're a neurologist – yeah, I know who you are – I don't have to tell you the dangers of hypoxia. He's going to have to deal with a blood draw now – I need his blood gasses. That can't wait."

"That's okay…he can tolerate that fairly easily."

"Good. And you can stay, as long as you stay out of the way. Understood?"

A little annoyed at being talked to like he was some unruly, panicking family member, Leonard bristled slightly even as he nodded his agreement. He was willing to play nice for Jim's benefit.

"Understood."


	4. Chapter 4

Leonard slid his hand down Jim's foot to his ankle, and encountered another strap. Looking up at Tavarkian, he narrowed his eyes angrily.

Tavarkian shook his head slightly and tucked the chart that Smith had started under his arm. "He was totally out of control when they brought him in, Dr. McCoy. The EMTs didn't know what was wrong with him…if he was on drugs, if he was seriously hurt, nothing. We had no idea, and we didn't want to risk him making his injuries worse, or hurting anyone who was just trying to help him."

Leonard took a breath and swallowed down his anger at the way Jim had been treated. He hadn't been there. He hadn't seen. But he could imagine how Jim must've fought. How feeling like he was suffocating in a c-spine collar would send him into completely into a fight or flight response. And if he was acting irrationally, he could understand why the medical personnel would've felt like they needed to protect themselves…and him…from his frantic fighting.

Looking at Jim now – arms pulled to his chest, breath short and labored, pale and somehow managing to look so much smaller than he really was – he wanted to kill someone for everything he'd been through. But he was maybe a little irrational too, when it came to the man he loved. So instead, he simply unbuckled the strap, and then moved to do the same to the other ankle.

"Just…please check his chart carefully before giving him anything," Leonard said. He paused when he realized that Jim was missing a shoe, and that shook him more than anything else so far.

_Jim was in a car accident._

Tavarkian said something that Leonard didn't really register, but he nodded vaguely, and then rejoined Jim at the head of the bed, taking his hands again and sitting on the stool left there by someone else. His head was spinning with the crushing, overwhelming knowledge Jim could just be…gone.

"Bones…what're they doing?" Jim asked. He licked his dry lips and turned his head to follow the movement in the room.

Jim's question snapped Leonard out of the haze that had settled around him momentarily, and he focused on his husband, really looking at him with a clinical eye…needing to reassure himself that there weren't any quietly deadly injuries that they didn't know about yet.

"They're just going to take some blood, Darlin'," Leonard answered. "No big deal, right?"

"Yeah," Jim said hoarsely.

"Will you use an oxygen mask?" Leonard asked, concerned at how breathless he sounded. When Jim hesitated, Nadjia spoke quietly from the other side of the bed.

"Nasal cannula?"

"That's the one that goes in your nose, Jim. Would that be okay? Please?"

"Okay," Jim said, smiling faintly. "Since you asked so nicely."

With his okay, Nadjia quickly set that up, and the effect was almost immediate, his sats going up by a couple of points. She continued to work quickly, setting up for a blood draw that made Jim wince slightly. With that done, Leonard then very carefully helped Jim out of his clothes and into a patient's gown. That left him gasping and with tears of pain in his eyes, and Leonard spoke to him quietly as they waited for him to get control of himself.

"You don't have to be in pain, Jim," Leonard said, his heart aching for him.

"I don't want to be drugged. Please Bones. This isn't your hospital. I don't…"

"Jim, I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

"Not yet. It's not that bad."

Not wanting to force anything on him, Leonard let it go, but he wasn't buying what Jim was selling for a second. If it looked like his pain was getting too bad, he'd be a little more insistent about it.

"Jim, may we exam you for any other injuries now?" Nadjia asked.

"Bones stays," Jim said, squeezing his hand.

"Yes of course. After all the calls I made to get him here?" she said winking at him, her voice gently teasing. "He's not going anywhere."

She and the other doctor who'd been in the room did a quick exam, listening to Jim's chest, checking for tenderness or guarding in his abdomen, and checking pupillary reflex. They had him move and flex his arms and legs, and checked again for strength in his hands and his feet.

And everything – _Thank you, God, Leonard thought_ – seemed ok. Jim was sore and banged up and cut and bruised from the seatbelt and from getting slammed around in the car, but he seemed okay, except for his chest.

"Okay, Jim," Tavarkian said, coming back into the room, a tech with an ultrasound right behind him. "Since we were delayed in treating you, I don't want to wait for a CT or an MRI to see what's going on with your chest. We're going to use the ultrasound to confirm what's going on in there, and then we'll send you for some other imaging."

Jim's hand tightened on Leonard's and he gently brushed his hair back off his forehead.

"That ok with you, Darlin'?"

In pain, and not wanting to be touched because of how much he hurt, Jim was nervous about what they wanted to do. But he knew he could hold on to Bones and know that he would be okay.

"Yeah," Jim said quietly.

The tech set up on the other side of the bed, Jim's injured side, and got his equipment ready. Jim hissed though his teeth when the tech spread conductive gel over his chest.

"Sorry," he said. "I'll be as careful and quick as I can."

Jim just nodded and took a careful, deep breath. He grimaced when the tech placed the transducer on the area, and it was all he could do to stay still as he moved it over his skin, zeroing in on the area over the break that resulted in the tear.

"There," Tavarkian said quietly, indicating a spot on the screen. The tech moved the transducer again and Jim jerked in pain, a moan escaping despite his clenched teeth. The images on the screen didn't mean a whole lot to Leonard, but the negative space where his lung should be filling the area was easy enough to identify. "Okay…that's enough."

The tech removed the transducer at Tavarkian's word, and in the next second almost wiped the gel off the patient's chest.

"No," Leonard said firmly, moving quickly to grab his wrist. "You'll hurt him."

"Oh – I'm sorry. Should I…?"

Leonard rolled his eyes at the incompetency. "Just give it to me," he said, releasing his wrist and holding his hand out for the paper cloth.

The tech glanced at Tavarkian, who nodded slightly before turning to Smith and Petit. "We need to set up for a chest tube. Now."

Leonard registered this, but he was carefully cleaning the gel off Jim, keeping his touch as light and gentle as he possibly could. Jim was breathing through clenched teeth, his brow furrowed with discomfort, and Leonard was at the point of pushing pain meds again, but Tavarkian beat him to it.

"Jim, as we suspected you have a pneumothorax – a partially collapsed lung – because it was damaged by a broken rib. The tear in your lung is pretty small, but because you…because it's been without treatment for so long, the pressure in your chest is making it harder and harder for you to breathe, and your lung is being compressed by that pressure. We need to insert a chest tube to relieve that pressure so your lung can expand again. Will you let us do that?"

Jim's heart raced in his chest at the thought of another invasive procedure. He'd only undergone a handful of medical procedures in his life, but each one _sucked_, left him completely at the mercy of the doctors and nurses and always seemed to come with nasty side effects. He _really_ didn't want to go through anything like that.

Laying there, even knowing his breathing wasn't what it was supposed to be, he couldn't just agree to something like that. _I don't want it!_ His stress level rocketed up, and Leonard leaned over to hold him as well as he could, letting Jim press his face to his shoulder as he shuddered at the thought of what they wanted to do…tear a hole through his chest wall in between his ribs and stick a tube in there…it was enough to make him sick.


	5. Chapter 5

**Note: This part contains a couple of descriptions of icky medical things. Nothing too bad, but just FYI.**

Hunched down like that, Leonard gently stroked Jim's blonde hair, noting the few strands of gray that were starting to become visible, and he sent out a silent _thank you _to anyone who might be listening that he was going to get to see him with more. Leonard held him carefully, mindful of his injury and wanting him to stay as still as possible. He glanced up when Tavarkian quietly asked Smith to call someone from psych. He knew they were out of time. Jim was going to have to come to terms with this. Now.

"Jim," he said quietly. "You know there's really no choice here, right?"

"Yeah…I know. Just, please…I just need a minute to get there, Bones, okay?" Jim replied, his voice low and quiet.

"Okay, Darlin'."

He watched Jim's face, his eyes closed, his lips moving silently, and he knew that Jim was running through some of the calming techniques he'd been taught to use over the years. Chris Pike had been working with Jim on his fears regarding medical procedures, hospitals, and doctors, and through it all he'd made some real progress. In the beginning, Jim needed Leonard there for a simple physical exam, and he had a hard time allowing the doctor to do basic checks. Now, he was fine going for exams on his own.

Before, things like MRIs or CTs, or anything that was invasive would send him into a panic just thinking about it. Now, though, as long as he could prepare himself for it, he could handle it. He could keep himself calm, and he could even go by himself…and had, a few times for his shoulder, especially after he took that fall off the roof.

So, in that respect he'd gotten so much better.

But this kind of thing – an accident, an emergency…when there wasn't time to calm himself or mentally prepare for what was coming – was just too much for him. And Leonard could imagine how the circumstances that brought him here today must've been totally overwhelming. He'd first been unconscious and confused, then woke and found himself strapped down, in a c-spine collar that made him feel like he couldn't breathe, and then to also have the pressure and pain in his chest, exacerbating that feeling.

To be restrained, so afraid and hurting, and know that some of the very common meds could potentially kill you…it wasn't that Jim hadn't had cause for panicking. It was just that once Jim got the point of the panicking, and that panic spiraled out of control the way it had today, he was unable to get beyond his phobic response.

But he was trying now. Now that Leonard was there, and Jim knew he'd make sure he wasn't given anything that would cause him a problem, he was trying to calm himself and get to the point where the fight or flight response that'd had him fighting and denying medical treatment was under control.

There was a lot of activity in the E.R. bay right now. Petit brought Tavarkian a chest tube tray, and another doctor, presumably one from Psych, came into the room, a clipboard in hand.

"Mr. Kirk? I'm Dr. Simms. How're you feeling now, Mr. Kirk? Any calmer?" he asked briskly.

Jim opened his eyes and met Leonard's gaze. "Lotta doctors in here Bones," he said.

"Yes, there are Jim…me…"

"…and me. PhD, is all, but still."

"Mm-hmm," Leonard agreed. He glanced up at Simms, who was looking less than thrilled that he was being ignored.

"There's Tavarkian, and Smith…and now Simms. And what are you here for, Dr. Simms?" Jim asked, eyes landing on him.

Simms hesitated, a little surprised at how…rational…the patient seemed to be. "Dr. Tavarkian just asked that I come speak to you. Uh…you have an injury that needs to be treated. How do you feel about that?"

Jim considered for a second. "Not thrilled, but I know it needs to be done."

Dr. Tavarkian looked up from what he was doing. "So you consent to treatment?"

Jim's hand clenched on Leonard's, and it took a second, but he nodded. "Yeah. Just…don't give me anything that's going to kill me, okay?"

Bones smiled slightly, and Tavarkian held up his chart. "Your husband made sure that won't happen. I have all your records here."

"Knew you were good for something," Jim said quietly, a small smile quirking his lips.

"Glad I could be of use," he replied, pleased at this change in Jim.

Unneeded, Simms nodded at Tavarkian and left the room, and Tavarkian came around to talk to Jim and Leonard.

"Jim, Nurse Petit is adding fentanyl to your I.V. That will help keep you calm and help with your pain. I'm going to inject some lidocaine at the site where we're going to be putting in the tube, and then I'm going to insert it. The fentanyl and lidocaine will help, but I don't want to lie to you…placing a chest tube can be painful. Once it's in, though, the pain will lessen almost right away, and the tightness and pressure you're feeling in your chest will go away, and you'll be able to breathe easier. Do you have any questions about anything?"

"No," Jim said. He licked his lips nervously, took a breath and blew it out. "Just do it."

"Okay, Jim…try to relax."

"Relax…why does everyone say that when they're getting ready to cut you open?" Jim asked, his breath coming a little quicker with his nerves. "And do they actually expect you to relax?"

Leonard gripped his hand tightly, and kissed his knuckles. "I'm right here," he said. "Just focus on me."

Tavarkian and Smith worked quickly, directing Jim to shift so he was lying on his uninjured side, and cleaning the area that they would be working on. Jim winced at the feel of the lidocaine being injected and he blew a breath out against the burn. Watching Jim's face, seeing him pale at just the lidocaine and knowing what was coming next, he remembered what happened when his shoulder was set and snagged an emesis basin from off the counter behind him, holding it at the ready in case Jim's nervous stomach should rebel.

"Okay, Jim…there's going to be a lot of pressure, and a really big poke…stay still for me."

"_Bones,_" Jim said through clenched teeth, his hands shaking in Leonard's grip.

"Just hold on to me, Jim…it'll be over fast," Leonard said calmly, though his heart was galloping in his chest. There was a sharp movement from the doctor as he pushed the tube in to place, and Jim – tense and expecting pain – let out a scream as his body jerked.

"Oh…_fuck!_ - Fuck!" Jim yelled, his legs moving restlessly as tried to pull away from Leonard's grip reflexively – probably to try to push the doctor away from him – but Leonard held him tightly.

"Jim…be still please," Tavarkian said. "Just another second."

"Oh, stop…stop…I'm gonna be sick," Jim moaned, pressing his face against the pillow beneath his head as he tried to deal with the pain and not throw up.

"There…the tube is in place…air is escaping. Does that feel better? Can you breathe easier?" Tavarkian asked, trying to get his patient to focus on something other than the discomfort of the insertion.

The pain from having the tube pushed into his chest lessened slightly, and Jim blinked against the tears standing in his eyes. Bones gently wiped his face of the sweat that had suddenly bathed him, and though he registered that the tightness in his chest had lessened, he was busy struggling to not throw up.

Leonard raised the emesis basin to Jim, holding it close to him, and seeing that, Jim gave up, gagging and gasping in pain as he brought up what little was in his stomach.

"Shh…you're ok, try to breathe slowly and deeply," Leonard said, trying to help him calm down as the doctor carefully secured the tube in place. He handed the basin off to the nurse and wiped Jim's pale face with a damp cloth that she handed to him. Shaky, hurting, but – finally – breathing easier, Jim settled, his body unclenching as he lay there.

"Okay," Jim said, after he had himself under control again. "That fucking _sucked!_"

Exhausted, he lay back on the bed and closed his eyes.

"Jim, I need to listen to your chest, okay?" Tavarkian said.

"Yeah, fine," he said. He was starting to feel a little floaty…

"You're okay, Jim…that's the pain medication they put in your IV," Leonard said.

"Oh…didn't know I said that out loud," he murmured.

"Jim, we're going to bring you down for a CT…no contrast, don't worry – to see how bad the injuries to your lung and ribs are, okay?"

"Bones comes," Jim said, squeezing his hand without opening his eyes.

Leonard squeezed his hand back, as Tavarkian nodded.

"Of course I'm coming."


	6. Chapter 6

Note: "Oide", pronounced "itta" is the Gaelic word for "step-father".

* * *

Joanna hurried across the parking lot, shifting the duffel she'd packed during her brief stop at the house to her other shoulder. Her throat ached and tears flooded her eyes, so overcome with worry and gratitude and just not sure what to do with it all. Sniffing, she pressed the back of her hand to her cheeks, and then took a deep breath.

"He's okay," she said to herself…but then blinked and tears she just couldn't control anymore spilled down over her cheeks. Giving up, she allowed herself to cry, and sat on a bench outside the entrance to the hospital. She pulled a tissue out of her purse, and blotted her eyes, waiting for the storm of emotion to pass.

She'd seen the car.

The tow truck had brought it to a local garage, and she'd gone there to retrieve Jim's briefcase. And…seeing the car, the shape it was in…

Aunt Aurelan and Uncle Sam had told her everything they knew when they called; that her oide had been involved in a multiple car accident on the highway, that he'd had some trouble breathing because of a damaged lung, but that they were able to treat it and he would be fine, and that her father was with him.

_"Oh, God, thank God he's okay…I'm coming. I'll leave right now."_

"Honey, there's really no reason for you to rush down here," Aurelan said gently. "Jim is just resting now, and they're going to keep him for a couple of days until they remove the chest tube."

"And he wouldn't want you to miss classes, especially since there's no emergency and nothing you can do," Sam added. "The weekend is right around the corner. Come then."

"Well…okay," she'd said, momentarily swayed. "Call me if you hear anything."

"Will do," Sam said.

"Of course, honey," Aurelan agreed. "Love you."

But then she'd called her father, and to her surprise, he answered. He'd said basically the same things, but his voice…she knew his voice. She knew when he was angry, or disappointed, or proud or happy. But this time…he was scared, and that scared her.

Jim would be fine. Her oide was fine. But it could've been _so_ much worse, and her father was struggling with the knowledge of that, all by himself.

So she got in her car and drove the two hours back home. She went to the house and packed a bag – her father was planning on staying with him – including the cell charger because he'd mentioned the battery was almost drained. Then she called the insurance company to get that process started, and found out where the car was taken. She drove by there to get the items she knew Jim would've had with him, and she saw the car.

Because of Jim, Joanna believed in God. She believed in miracles and His plan, and after seeing that car, she thanked God with all her heart that He'd had His hand on Jim's shoulder that morning.

Sniffing a final time, she wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

"That's enough. Buck up," she said aloud.

Standing, she shouldered the bag again, and walked into the hospital. She got a Visitor's Pass and found out what room Jim was in, then followed the signs to the correct wing before taking the elevator up. The door to his room was standing slightly ajar, and it was dim inside. Joanna hesitated before pushing it open further and easing inside.

Oide was laying, semi-reclined, bare-chested. She knew he had a tube in his chest, but actually seeing it was still a little shocking. That, and the I.V. and the oxygen and pulse oximeter and leads on his chest…there seemed to be wires and tubes everywhere. But, she could see on the monitor that his heartbeat was strong and steady, and his blood pressure was normal, and he looked like he was sleeping comfortably. And something in her relaxed, finally.

"Jo."

Her eyes landed on her father where he sat.

"Dad," she said, and crossed the small room as he stood to meet her. He put his arms around her, holding her tightly and stroking her hair. She let the bag slip off her arm to the floor and wrapped her arms around him, too.

"I thought I told you not to come," he said, kissing the top of her head.

"I had to," she said.

"I'm glad you did. Is he really okay?"

Leonard released her and looked over at Jim. "Yeah, Darlin', he's fine. He was slightly sedated to…" he trailed off, sensitive to Jim's embarrassment over his phobia. "But he's just sleeping now."

"To keep him calm," Joanna filled in. She rolled her eyes when her father looked at her in surprise.

"Dad, really? I'm not an idiot. I know he hates hospitals."

Leaving her father, she walked to Jim's bedside and leaned over him. So gently, she kissed his cheek and squeezed his hand, and to her surprise his eyes fluttered open.

"Hey oide…I'm so happy you're okay," she whispered.

He smiled as she kissed his cheek again. "Even better now, Jo."

Leonard joined them at his other side, taking his other hand, and Jo reached a hand out to her father, too. With the three of them linked like that, Jim closed his eyes to rest, Jo did as well, a tear slipping down her cheek as she offered a silent prayer of thanks.

And though Leonard didn't usually pray, he did this time.


End file.
